


Don't Forget The Cake

by LeCheesie



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Like literally 3k words of smut, M/M, Mostly Smut, Otabek is wearing only an apron, Smut, There's some plot if you squint, Yuri tries out a skirt, it's Yuri's birthday, ruined birthdays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-07 23:14:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12242520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeCheesie/pseuds/LeCheesie
Summary: It's Yuri's birthday, and he wants to wear a skirt. So he does. Otabek can't handle.





	Don't Forget The Cake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ded_i_am_just_ded](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ded_i_am_just_ded/gifts).



> This is a gift for Ded, she is fantastic.  
> (Yuri in a skirt, ruined birthdays, and "This isn't the worst thing you've ever seen me do")

Yuri ran the fabric between his fingers, enjoying the feel of the tulle slipping between them. His teeth worried his bottom lip, his eyes flitting up to meet Mila’s across the rack of clothing. She was busy sorting through the clearance items, a look of disgust featured on her face. Yuri pulled the hanger from the rack, clicking his tongue to draw Mila’s attention.

“Yes, no?” Yuri asked, holding the pink skirt up so his friend could get a good look at it. He watched her features scrunch together before she broke into a smile, nodding enthusiastically.

It was his birthday, he could spoil himself today. Not to mention that Otabek would likely enjoy seeing him in a skirt and tube top, showing off the soft ivory curves of his calves and the taut planes of his stomach. He was buying this skirt. He was going to rock this skirt, and Otabek was going to devour him in it whether Yuri had to force him to or not.

Mila had deserted him after their shopping, claiming she had somewhere she had to be. Yuri had given her a hard time, telling her it’s my birthday, you’re going to leave me all by myself for lunch? She insisted she had to leave though, and Yuri was left to eat on his own, tulle skirt rumpled in his shopping bag. He chewed on his french fries thoughtfully, thinking of the different ways he could appear in his and Otabek’s shared apartment in his skirt.

He thought of his boyfriend, at home, likely preparing the elaborate dinner he had promised to Yuri. He was likely wearing that stupid apron, the one with the frills and the hearts that made Yuri’s eyes water with laughter. Otabek really only donned it to make Yuri laugh, claiming that the old, torn apron was an heirloom that they could never throw away.

When he finished his meal, Yuri tucked the shopping back under his arm and headed for his car. When he pulled into their apartment’s parking lot, he tugged the skirt and tube top on, adjusting the elastic waistband so it sat low on his hips. He discarded his boxer briefs, knowing it would make an even better surprise to have nothing on underneath.

He welcomed the few stares he received as he strutted up the steps, pushing the tulle material down nervously. His hands were suddenly damp with sweat, and he tugged absently at his top.

He slotted his key into the door, clicking it unlocked before he swung it open. He smelled whatever Otabek was making for dinner, which smelled strongly of pork, mingling with the scent of a freshly baked cake. His stomach flipped, kicking the door shut with a booted foot. He waited in the entryway for Otabek to peek around the corner of the kitchen, and when he did, Yuri saw his brown eyes widen. Otabek’s eyes raked along Yuri’s form, taking in the tips of his boots, the curves of his legs, and the dips of faint muscles on his stomach.

Yuri felt his heart pounding in his chest, his hands grabbing at the material of his shirt. Otabek was wearing literally nothing but an apron, and Yuri wondered briefly how safe that could be. He was pulled from his thoughts when Otabek nearly lunged at him, pinning him back into the door. Yuri’s wrists were pinned above his head, Otabek’s other hand sliding up the delicate inside of his thigh. He felt warm, wet lips pressing along the column of his neck, a sound that was definitely inhuman escaping him.

“Did you wear this for me?” Otabek whispered, his voice already laced with lust, his body melding into Yuri’s. Yuri just choked, giving in to the gentle traces of Otabek’s fingers along the skin of his thigh. He shuddered, his eyes fluttering shut as his head smacked back into the door. He was bucking his hips out into Otabek, wanting to feel more.

His mouth was captured then, Otabek’s soft and sweet against his own. His lips parted pliantly, the brunette swallowing the sounds coming from within him. He felt light and dizzy, his eyelashes tickling his cheekbones as he melted between Otabek’s fingers. That wandering hand was cupping his dick now, fingertips teasing along the velvety skin. It was always like this between them, words left unspoken as they devoured one another with abandon.

“You should know better than to walk in here wearing something so tempting,” Breath hot in Yuri’s eat, voice tickling him down to his nerves. Otabek took on a tone when he was aroused. It was low and smooth, thick like honey. It curled around Yuri’s muscles, licking at his insides. He always broke down for Otabek. He was no longer that loud and obnoxious Russian. He was pliant, he was willing, he was like putty in Otabek’s grip.

His wrists began to ache, the pressure of Otabek’s hands pushing them into the door hurting so wonderfully. He knew there would be marks there. There would be proof on his skin that Otabek had taken care of him. He would wear them proudly, a display of their affection, with no shame.

Yuri just whined, attempting to buck himself forward. Otabek’s hand was teasing him, fingertips just barely brushing along his member. He spent more time fingering at his thighs, touching the swell of his muscle with delicate strokes. Yuri felt as though his entire being was on fire.

Otabek began to kiss along Yuri’s jawline, his hand still hiking up the skirt between them. He gripped Yuri’s thigh, pressing himself forward again. Yuri felt his erection pressing into his hip, a gasp shuddering from his lips as he opened his eyes. Wet kisses were pressing along his collarbone, suckling at the skin with quiet smacks.

Otabek finally let go of Yuri’s wrists, Yuri’s hands finding purchase in dark hair. His chest was heaving, his heart beating erratically as he tried to hold himself upright. His knees were threatening to buckle beneath him, to take him down to the floor as the strength was sapped from him. Fingers were pulling at the thin fabric around his chest, pushing it up under his armpits.

Yuri’s lip was threatening to crack, teeth digging into the plush skin as he gripped at Otabek’s hair. His nipple was enclosed with warm heat, teeth teasing the nub. All Yuri could muster was a quiet _fuck, Otabek_ relishing in the fact that Yuri’s nipples were always so overly sensitive. Otabek’s hands were holding Yuri steady, the only thing keeping him from falling from where he stood, pressed into the doorway. His head slammed back against the door once more, the pleasure of his nipple being tugged at clouding out the pain.

The brunette picked him up then with ease, his arms tucking around Yuri’s thighs as he lifted him. Yuri’s legs wrapped around Otabek’s waist with familiarity, his hands carding through his boyfriend’s undercut before gripping at the back of his neck for support. His mind was fuzzy, his thoughts eluding him, his heart threatening to rip from inside of him.

Otabek’s fingers dug bruisingly into Yuri. Yuri’s nails scraped at the back of the brunette’s neck. Otabek was throwing Yuri down onto the couch, crawling over him like a predator stalking its prey. Yuri stared up at him, green orbs wide and sparkling, blown over with pupil. Otabek gazed over him, fingers running down the expanse of Yuri’s chest, brushing over his pebbling nipples, dipping into his navel before tangling into the golden hair trailing down into his skirt.

Yuri tried to grab at Otabek, his fingers reaching for the apron around his body, but Otabek pushed his wrists back over his head again. He was not letting Yuri take control like he always did. Yuri let out a moan, teetering on the edge of being a sob, at the sudden loss of control. He wanted to touch Otabek, wanted to trace the outlines of his pectoral muscles, squeeze his nipples between his thin fingers.

The brunette was on him then, all teeth and tongue, licking and nipping at the pulse in Yuri’s neck. His eyes squeezed shut, giving himself to the pleasure. His cock was pressed between them, hard and leaking, untouched beyond Otabek’s weight. He wanted to cry, wanted to tell Otabek to touch him, but his throat closed up, unable to form any words when the brunette began to grind into him.

His skirt was hiked up once again, tan fingers still gripping his wrists unrelentingly. He was not going to let go. He was not going to let his kitten have what he wanted. Not today.

Pushing the skirt up, a smile tugged at the corners of Otabek’s mouth. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he admired the sight before him. Yuri was breathing heavily, his nostrils flaring as he tried so hard to hold his composure. He was trying to wiggle his hands from Otabek’s grip, but the brunette was so much stronger. There were beads of precum leaking from the tip of Yuri’s flushed member, slick and making Otabek’s mouth water.

Only then did he let loose Yuri’s wrists. He leaned down, strong fingers digging into Yuri’s hips as he engulfed the whole of his pink cock. Yuri nearly choked, his head tilting back as he moaned wantonly. The feeling of Otabek’s mouth wrapping around him, the feeling of his fingers at his sides was nearly enough to break him.

His hands pulled at Otabek’s hair, huffing and gasping as he bucked his hips upwards. His back arched beautifully, his nipples pert and pink, a contrast to his ivory skin. His mouth was dry, his voice cracking, his moans pouring from him with no shame. Otabek pulled back, his tongue curling around the ridge of his head, staring up at Yuri with sparkling eyes. Yuri looked down at him then, his heart seizing in his chest as he stared back into those warm orbs. They stared up at him with passion, full of love and desire, Yuri feeling like the breath had been punched from his lungs.

He watched Otabek curiously, fingers feathering through his dark hair as he bobbed back down. His nose nuzzled at Yuri’s soft hair, and their gaze never wavered. Otabek’s hands had moved from his hips to push the tulle fabric down, wanting to hold Yuri’s eyes steady with his own as he took him apart with his mouth.

“Please,” Yuri rasped, pleading with Otabek. His voice cracked. He didn’t sound confident, he didn’t _feel_ confident. Otabek pulled off of him with a wet pop, smirking as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Yuri’s fingers dropped from his hair, moving to grip at the lace of the apron that Otabek was still unfortunately wearing. Otabek grabbed his hands again, stilling them from fumbling with the tie. Yuri looked up at him, his eyes shining like a question, but Otabek said nothing.

Yuri’s lips were stolen again, Otabek’s tongue running along the plush skin before Yuri opened his mouth once more. He gave way to the brunette’s exploring tongue, tasting himself mingled with the familiar taste that was all Otabek’s. Their apartment was filled with nothing but the sound of their sloppy kisses, too many teeth, too eager to swallow one another’s moans.

Otabek pulled back then, Yuri’s lips puffy and red, wet with saliva as he stared up at the brunette through his heavy lashes. His eyes were half-lidded, a trail of spit sliding down his chin. He wiped at it absentmindedly, Otabek leaning over to grab at a bottle of lube that was _conveniently_ sitting on the coffee table.

Cold wet fingers prodded at Yuri’s entrance then, pressing at the pucker while Yuri spread his thighs apart. Otabek’s other hand trailed up and down his milky white skin, thumbing at the muscle of his thigh. Yuri stared up at him, biting at the inside of his cheek when the familiar uncomfortable feeling of Otabek’s finger sliding into him took over his senses.

His hands moved to grip at something, _anything_ , finding themselves wrapped in the rough material of his skirt. It was still bunched up around him, cutting off his view of Otabek fingering his hole with slow thrusts of his finger. One finger became two, Yuri adjusting himself to give him better access. He pulled his legs up, showing off his flexibility as they splayed on either side of him. His hands moved to grip at his own thighs, spreading himself open for the brunette above him.

Otabek’s eyes were fixated where they were connected, his tongue dipping out to run along his lip when two fingers became three. He wasn’t stretching Yuri apart, he was teasing him. He was relentlessly brushing along Yuri’s prostate, relishing in the sounds that were coming from Yuri’s parted lips. It was too much feeling and not enough at the same time. Yuri _needed_ more, he needed to feel _more_.

Otabek’s fingers slipped from him then, wiping on the apron before he untied it and dropped it to the ground. His hands pushed up at Yuri’s thighs, stressing Yuri’s strength as he pressed inside. It was slow, tender, Otabek’s gaze fixated on his as he bottomed out slowly. When he was seated fully inside, Yuri’s arms snaked around him, a silent signal for him to move.

Otabek did, slowly at first, torturously slow. He was missing Yuri’s sweet spot purposefully, making Yuri whine impatiently. His blunt nails dug angry red stripes down Otabek’s skin before digging into the firm mounds of flesh on his lower back. He tried so hard to pull Otabek into him, feeling Otabek chuckle in his ear before his earlobe was nipped at. Yuri sobbed, attempting to arch his back, but Otabek’s weight was too much, he couldn’t move.

“Patience, kitten,” Otabek said quietly. The warmth of his breath made Yuri shudder, goosebumps rising along his flesh. His eyes fluttered shut, his head tilted back. Finally, Otabek stopped torturing him, sitting back on his knees as he gripped harder at Yuri’s flesh.

He stared down at Yuri, eyes blown over with black before he began to pound into him with earnest. Yuri gasped beneath him, his eyes flitting up to meet Otabek’s. His hands padded around for the brunette’s before they gripped one another, fingers clasping together. Otabek pushed his hands down on either side of his head, leaning over him to press soft kisses along his lips. The sound of skin slapping together was like music to Yuri’s ears, and he tried desperately to spread his legs even further apart.

Though Otabek’s thrusts were anything but gentle, he was avoiding touching Yuri where he needed to be touched. He was stretching this out between them, his fingers gripping Yuri’s tightly. His lips were pressing along the length of Yuri’s jaw, peppering kisses along his pale flesh. He nipped here and there, before he latched onto a spot on Yuri’s neck. He sucked at it, his hips pushing Yuri down into the couch with every brutal thrust. Yuri was trying to hold his legs up, his thighs quivering as Otabek pressed into him.

The brunette knew exactly what Yuri needed. He was unwinding him like a spool of thread, pulling Yuri apart until he was unable to speak. Yuri was moaning, writhing beneath him, pushing himself up to meet Otabek’s thrusts halfway. He was so close, so close, but Otabek was not giving in to what he needed. Yuri was stretched taut, his demeanor threatening to snap as he tried to force Otabek to hit the place inside of him that made his vision turn white.

“Please,” Yuri cried again, desperate for more. Otabek pulled back, looking down at Yuri with clouded eyes. A smile danced across his lips as Yuri gasped. Otabek was finally giving in, Yuri feeling the tightly wound pleasure threatening to unfurl inside of him.

Otabek found his prostate again, fucking into it with desperate thrusts. His breath was ragged against Yuri’s lips, his eyes squeezed shut. Yuri knew he was trying to hold back. He let go of one of Otabek’s hands, sliding it between them to grip at his neglected cock. He thumbed at the head, tugged at the skin. The pleasure of Otabek on him, filling him, touching him, breathing the heady air between them, was enough to push Yuri over the edge. He came with a cry of the brunette’s name, spilling between them like a painter over a canvas. Otabek stilled, buried inside of him as he too came with a shudder. Yuri felt him spill inside of him, his cock pulsing as Otabek gritted his teeth.

Their post-orgasmic bliss was dissolved as quickly as it started. The hissing of water spilling over the stove interrupted their kisses, the quiet clearing of a throat jolting them both to glance at the door.

Mila was there. Not only Mila. Mila, Victor, Yuuri, the entire fucking crew was standing in their doorway. Yuri scrambled to pull his skirt down, Otabek pulling a hand down his face.

Phichit popped a party popper, confetti littering the floor. Chris let go of a bunch of balloons, but he looked rather amused. Yuuri looked horrified, his hands covering his face with shame.

“Do you guys know how to fucking knock?” Yuri asked, Otabek nearly falling off the couch as he grabbed the apron from the ground. He scrambled towards the kitchen, likely trying to make sense of the mess spilling over the stove.

Mila covered her face with her hand, stifling her laughter as the others stared with wide eyes. Yuri flushed, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks as he gripped his skirt with whitening knuckles. He spoke then, trying to fight back the embarrassment to grab ahold of the situation playing out before him.

“Okay, but this isn’t technically the worst thing you’ve ever seen me do,” Yuri said, feigning confidence as he stared at his guests, still standing awkwardly in the entryway. It was quiet.

Victor spoke then, breaking the silence as he pushed past the others into the apartment.

“Yeah, that goes to that one time I caught you putting on rouge!”

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me on [tumblr](https://lecheesie.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
